


Hotel Tanzania

by empressofmisrule



Category: Ylvis
Genre: AU No Wives No Kids, F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 03:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressofmisrule/pseuds/empressofmisrule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A solo traveller wakes from a poolside nap to find a handsome stranger sitting beside her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel Tanzania

You slowly awaken as a warm breeze slides across your back. You're still lying face down on the chaise lounge where you drifted to sleep hours ago. You know it's been hours because the shadows have gotten long and the heat is sultry now, instead of fierce the way it is at midday.

A slight movement to your right startles you fully awake, and you see there's a man sitting in the lounge next to you. He's wearing sunglasses, looking intently at his phone and sipping an iced cocktail out of a stemmed glass. He's got on snug-fitting swim trunks and he's obviously gone for a swim recently - his hair is damp and there's a towel slung around his neck. He's lightly tanned and has a dusting of freckles across his perfectly straight nose and high cheekbones.

You don't know who this guy is, but he's been around the hotel for the last couple of days. He usually has several people with him – you've seen him most often with a shorter, dark-haired man and a very tall, slightly knock-kneed man with sandy hair and a permanent sad-clown expression on his face. They seem to know each other very well, always chattering away in a mixture of English and another language you can't identify, showing each other things on their phones and laughing a lot.

He's slim - almost skinny, in fact - with a long torso and surprisingly well-muscled legs. He moves with a magnetic grace that draws your eye and makes everyone else look clumsy by comparison. His hair is longish and light brown, with blond streaks bleached into it by the sun. He has a beautifully chiseled face and big, very blue eyes with a slight tilt at the outer corners. You kind of hate yourself for thinking this, but he looks a bit like a cartoon prince from a Disney movie – almost too perfect for real life. But you've also seen him burst out laughing over something one of his friends said, crinkling up his nose and throwing his head back, and that makes him look about nine years old.

You think he's caught you staring at him a few times, but he's almost always wearing mirrored sunglasses so you can't tell exactly where he's looking. Now however, he's looking right at you, pushing the sunglasses up on top of his head and those big blue eyes are looking right through you now. He looks you over with a gaze that makes you feel naked and then you realize, with a thrill that makes your heart thump and your stomach do a little flip, that you are nearly naked. You took your bikini top off earlier to sunbathe and never put it back on when you moved into the lounge under the shelter. There's nothing between you and those eyes but a skimpy swimsuit bottom.

He gives you a mischievous half-smile and says “Good, you're awake. You must need a drink after sleeping in the heat. Here, take this...” He hands the glass over and you sit up to take it, completely forgetting about your towel. His smile widens as you lean over and you flush, because you've just flashed him your breasts full-on.

Oh well, you think, it's too late now to be modest and anyway he appears to like what he sees. You decide to make a little show of it and stretch languorously as you sit all the way up, arching your back slightly as you take the glass, close your mouth over the straws and sip. The base of the drink is rum and some sweet liqueur, mixed with tropical fruit juice. He's right, you are parched from being in the heat all afternoon, so you drain the glass in one gulp, gazing into his eyes the whole time.

Still holding his eyes, not trusting your voice to be steady if you try to speak, you silently hand the glass back to him. Your fingers touch briefly when he takes it from you. Your heart is pounding now and there's an echoing pulse beating between your legs. You are in serious trouble and try to tell yourself to pick up your towel and go, but you can't move. Your limbs are simply not responding.

Trying to stop yourself from trembling, you break the gaze and look around the pool area for a distraction, and you're surprised to find the pool area completely deserted. That's strange – the crowd usually thins out in late afternoon, but it's never empty. You say, more to yourself than to him, “where is everyone?” He answers “The pool's been closed for a private party tonight.”

“Really?”you say, bitterly disappointed “Shouldn't we leave, then? When are the guests getting here?”

He smiles even wider. “They're already here - the private party is you and me. I thought it was about time we got to know each other better, instead of just looking out of the corners of our eyes. I've been wanting to ask for a couple of days, why is a beautiful woman like you always out here by herself?”

Startled by his bluntness, you blurt out the truth before you can stop yourself. “This is my honeymoon, actually.”

His eyebrows arch up. ”Really? Isn't somebody missing?”

“Nobody's missing. I called off the wedding a week ago.”

He sits back, bemused. “Really? Why?

“I can't say exactly. I was really happy when he asked me, or I thought I was. But then we got into planning the wedding and it took over my entire life – like a second career I didn't want. As the wedding date got closer I was dreading it instead of looking forward to it, and my fiance had become this stranger who was forcing me to do all these things I didn't care about. I think I went a little bit crazy. I just couldn't take the pressure anymore and called it off. I took a few days to cancel all the arrangements, but this trip was already paid for and I needed to decompress. So I said what the hell, and came here by myself.'

He's now holding your hand, the one that was on the cocktail glass, stroking it gently. You're having trouble concentrating. He says“I'm sorry to hear that. Are you feeling better yet, or am I cutting into your alone time? Maybe I should let you be for a little longer instead?

You start a bit at this suggestion and hope he didn't notice. You take a deep breath and answer “Oh no, you can stay. It's nice having someone to talk to now that I feel like talking again.”

He smiles again and you have to look down to control your breathing again. You feel a bit like you might pass out. He kneels down in front of you to look up at your face and his tone changes immediately to concern. “Are you all right? Maybe I should take you inside, you've been out in the heat all afternoon.”

You know your knees won't hold you if you try to stand up, so you try to pull yourself together. “no no, I'm fine. I think it might just be the drink going to my head.”

“Here, at least come into the pool for a little bit. That will cool you down.”

He takes your hands and pulls you to your feet, but you're still unsteady and he catches you as you sway. The two of you are now standing torso to naked torso, and it's too much to bear. Without taking any conscious action, your arms move around his neck and you bring his face down to yours. You feel a slight shock when your lips meet, the he slides his tongue inside your mouth and your head starts to spin.

His skin is cool from swimming, and his hair smells like salt water and sunshine. Your conscious mind checks out and animal instinct takes over. You groan against his mouth, pressing your breasts into his smooth chest and grinding your crotch against him, where you can feel a rock-hard erection pressing against your lower belly. His hands start to move all over your body - cupping your breasts, squeezing them gently and pinching your nipples, then under the back of your bathing suit to caress your buttocks, moving around to the front to slide a couple of fingers between your labia to feel the slick moisture already collecting there. He pushes his fingers up inside the entrance to your vagina and strokes the most sensitive spot, making you jump and moan deep in your throat. You can feel him smiling against the skin of your neck and chuckling. He starts kissing you down the side of your jaw, starting just behind one ear and trailing down the side of your neck to your collarbone.

This makes you start to sway again,so he eases you down onto the chaise. Once you're lying on your back though, he's done being gentle. He slides off his swim trunks in one smooth motion. Your legs slide apart of their own accord as he climbs on top of you and you realize his slim appearance is deceiving – his arms and torso are solidly muscled and he's pressing you down into the chaise longue as his mouth finds yours again. In your eagerness you nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue along it, but he's off down your body again. He stops at your breasts and takes a few minutes to lick both nipples and knead them between his fingers, making your inner muscles clench involuntarily until you're whimpering like a puppy and writhing around in frustration.

Just when you're about to scream he starts moving down again, kissing his way down your belly until his head is down between your legs and your bikini bottoms have disappeared – you didn't even feel him take them off. He parts your labia roughly with his thumbs and sucks on your clit while you nearly go into orbit. He slides two fingers up inside and starts rubbing the sweet spot again while he keeps working on your clit with his lips and tongue. Your orgasm is building so fast that you try to pull away for a bit, just to catch your breath, but he's merciless. He presses down on your lower abdomen with one hand and intensifies the pressure of his tongue and fingers as you start to tremble and your body goes rigid.

When the climax hits it's explosive. Your hips buck and you scream so loud it tears at your throat. You cover your face with your hands, half screaming and half sobbing as the aftershocks go on and on and he still doesn't let up. You can feel the wetness pumping out of your cunt onto his face as he keeps lapping and sucking. Then he's up and on top of you again, pulling your knees up on either side of his body and thrusting his hard cock inside your throbbing wetness. You lock your legs around his waist and tilt your pelvis, He kisses you deeply, letting you taste your own juices on his lips as his cock moves in and out – two or three shallow strokes, then deep and hard. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist to pull him in deeper.

Unfortunately the chaise longue is not made for this kind of strenuous activity and is skidding around a bit, so he puts one foot on the ground to hold it in place while he keeps thrusting, but this just overbalances it so both of you nearly topple onto the ground. Not missing a beat, he pulls the cushion off the lounge, sets it on the ground, pulls you up to your knees and enters you again from behind as you lean over the side of the lounge. His arms are tight around your waist and you can hear his ragged breathing right in your ear. His thrusts are getting harder and more frenzied and you know it won't be long now. He begins to grunt, then to shout and comes violently, his face pressed against the back of your neck. You can feel his cock pumping inside you as he achieves his release.

You stay in that position for a few minutes, catching your breath, then he pulls out and sits down on the lounge cushion, resting his head on his knees. You kneel beside him, still panting with exertion. You're both dripping with sweat and your skin is so hot it feels like steam is coming off it. His face and torso are flushed dark red and his hair is lank with sweat - you can only imagine what you must look like. As if he read your mind, he looks up and says “Come on, let's go for a swim to cool off. I don't want you passing out on me again.” You pick up your bikini bottom from the ground and he says “don't worry about that. Nobody's here but us.” Still naked, he makes a run for the side of the pool and does a flying leap into the water. You follow and sedately lower yourself in, then duck your head under the water. The hell with worrying about how your hair looks.

He surfaces from his big leap and slices through the water towards you. You shoot away towards the shallow end and make him follow you. Being in the pool is helping you to come back to yourself again. You find you're able to pick up the previous conversation as though it hadn't stopped.

You turn to face him, treading water, and ask “You know, I told you why I'm here but you never did tell me why you are.”

He laughs at that. “You didn't exactly give me a chance. I'm actually here for a film festival. Me, my brother and our friend were shooting a movie here earlier this week and they invited us even though the film isn't done yet

“Really? You're a film actor? And so are those other guys with you?

“Well, not exactly. We all work together on a TV show back home in Norway. This whole trip was to make a series for our show. It's a long story...”

A burst of noise from the front of the hotel – car doors slamming and loud voices – reminds you of something else. You ask “Did you really book this pool for a private party?”

He starts laughing and says “Well, sort of. We made friends with the pool guy here – he's a huge fan of JB, the guy who directed our film and is always asking us about the movie shoot. So today I just asked him for a favour - told him if he'd close the pool for a couple of hours this afternoon we'd let him come to the festival with us and he could meet JB. I've never seen anybody move so fast. In about ten minutes he made everyone leave the pool except you and me, locked all the doors, put up some signs and that was it.”

“So where's the pool guy been all this time?” you say, looking around in alarm.

“Don't worry, he's not here. Vegard and Magnus took him out – probably feeding him drinks and telling him ridiculous lies about our non-existent movie careers. Look, it's getting late – let's dry off and go inside, and I can tell you the rest of the story in my room.”

“What about my room? I have the honeymoon suite, you know.” You raise your eyebrows and smile. He returns the smile. “Okay then, your room....


End file.
